


A Small Miscalculation

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Chris Argent & Derek Hale Friendship, College Student Allison Argent, College Student Stiles, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Minor Chris Argent/Sheriff Stilinski, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Stiles might be dating Allison. Derek is definitely pining for Stiles. Chris just tries to help.





	A Small Miscalculation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clotpolesonly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/gifts).



> For Clotpolesonly! I combined two prompts from her TW Holiday Exchange wishlist (“fake dating that is genuinely fake” + “something that highlights the relationship growth between Derek and Chris”). When I started writing this I had no intention of a background Chris/Sheriff relationship, but it happened anyway.

Stiles texts Derek just as he’s getting bored enough to consider working out. Again.

_Hey, I’m supposed to go to Ally’s house today, but the jeep is having one of those days. Want to give me a ride over there?_

Derek takes great pleasure in sending a simple, succinct _no_.

 _Aww, come on!_ Stiles sends back. _I know you and Chris are trying to be bros now, so this is NOT an imposition!!!_

Derek stares at the ridiculous number of exclamation points, then shrugs. _Fine_.

 _You’re the best, see you soon_.

Derek frowns at the phone purely out of habit, then heads upstairs to find a shirt.

 

*

 

Allison meets them at the door, and Derek stares a little when she immediately grabs Stiles’ hand and pulls him away. They whisper and laugh all the way up the stairs, and Derek does his best not to listen to what they’re saying, though he’s certainly tempted.

“They got you on chauffeur duty, or what?” Chris asks from the kitchen.

“I think I’m just the taxi right now,” Derek says, joining him at the counter. “But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”

Chris nods, blue eyes sharp on Derek. “You know what’s going on with that?” he asks, gesturing toward the stairs with his knife before he realizes what he’s doing. He goes back to chopping jalapenos. “Like, are they dating?”

Derek tenses in what he tells himself is shock, but knows is actually fear. Stiles has been perpetually single for so long it’s practically his trademark, so Derek always figured he’d have plenty of time to tell him how he feels, had actually been planning to once Stiles was on a break from school—

“No idea,” he forces through a suddenly dry mouth.

Chris makes a noncommittal sound. “It was probably a bad idea to let them go to the same college, but at least it’s local and I can keep an eye on them. I think they’re taking a couple of classes together, and they seem to be enjoying that way too much.”

Derek promptly imagines a Hallmark-movie style progression, from study buddies and late nights at the library to something _more romantic_ and he shudders, trying not to panic. Could his chance with Stiles have already passed him by?

Chris, entirely unaware of Derek’s turmoil, dumps the jalapenos into a bowl of what appears to be mostly sour cream. He gives it a stir, shoves a bag of chips at Derek, then says, “Want to try my spicy dip?”

Derek nods. At the very least it’ll be a good distraction.

 

*

 

When Derek comes by the Argent house a week later the door is open, and Chris is staring at the upstairs balcony with a stern expression. “I better not hear any strange noises up there. You said you were here to study,” he calls out gruffly.

“We are!” comes Allison’s voice, sounding almost suspiciously innocent.

Chris obviously hears that too, because he shakes his head in disbelief. Derek, who’s kind of automatically attuned to Stiles’ voice, hears him murmur something to Allison in a low, intimate tone. He tunes right back out again, and quickly says, “I brought the stuff, if you still want to make wings,” and holds up the full grocery bags in emphasis.

“Of course,” Chris says, gesturing him toward the kitchen.

“Oh, before I forget,” Derek says after setting down his stuff, “I found this in the preserve the other day. The scent trail was cold, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything special about it.” He pulls a knife out of his back pocket, and hands it to Chris handle first.

Chris carefully takes it, examines it for a few moments, then launches into a ten-minute speech on the style, quality, maker, and features of the knife. Derek listens interestedly, because Chris’ wealth of knowledge is wonderful when it’s not being used against him.

“All in all, a pretty nice knife,” Chris finishes. “Do you want it? Or would you mind if I kept it?”

“Be my guest,” Derek says, because he certainly doesn’t need it. In an emergency, he’d rather rely on his claws.

“Thanks,” Chris says, pocketing the knife smoothly. “Now, let’s get to those wings.”

They talk idly about the town, and anything suspicious they’ve seen or heard about, as Derek makes the buffalo sauce. And at one point, when they’re discussing criminal activity, Chris accidentally reveals that he’s maybe, just a little bit, interested in Sheriff Stilinski.

Derek then proceeds to admit that he might be, just a little bit, interested in _Stiles_ Stilinski. And it adds another weirdly comfortable level of camaraderie between them, which Derek can’t help appreciating.

Chris starts slicing carrots and celery for dipping, and says with absolute seriousness that Derek is free to steal Stiles away from Allison. Derek’s not sure if he should be insulted for Stiles, or maybe even Allison, but he just rolls his eyes and tosses a cooked chicken wing at Chris.

And Chris, damn his reflexes, actually catches it. He eats it slowly, with a smug look on his face.

The delicious smell of the chicken must be permeating the house, because it draws Stiles and Allison downstairs pretty quickly.

“Is there enough for everyone?” Stiles asks, hand already reaching for the platter.

Chris and Derek slap his hand away at the same time. “If by _everyone_ , you mean myself and Chris, then yes,” Derek says with a smirk.

Chris elbows him, because there’s clearly plenty of food, even with a werewolf appetite involved. “Set the table if you want to eat,” he says sternly to Stiles and Allison, then winks at Derek as soon as they hop to it.

Sitting together at the kitchen table is less awkward than Derek thought it would be, mostly because Stiles and Allison don’t seem to be big on public displays of affection. They don’t share so much as a kiss on the cheek, but under Chris’ watchful gaze, Derek’s not sure he’d be willing to attempt it either.

They _do_ share a lot of secret smiles and little nudges though, and after a while it begins to set Derek’s nerves on edge. He feels like there’s a joke happening that he’s missing entirely.

Chris picks up on it too, because eventually he glances between them and says, “You two have something you want to say?”

Allison shakes her head and bites into another wing, obviously knowing when to leave things lie, but predictably Stiles rises to the challenge.

“That depends,” he says, a little smirk on his face. “Are you ever going to man up and ask my dad on a date?” He savors the shocked look on Chris’ face, then continues with, “I’m cool with it, but if you take him pastries ever again, I will _kill_ any chance you ever had.”

Chris nods, slow and calculating. “Fair enough,” he says.

Stiles sits there for a moment, clearly thinking something over, then says, “When I came out to my dad as bi, he told me he dated a couple of guys when he was in college. Take that as you will.” Then he grabs Allison’s hand, and they both head back upstairs.

Chris waits until they’re out of hearing range, then says to Derek, low, “Do you think I should go for it?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, because at least _one_ of them should get the relationship they want. And no way is he going after Stiles when he’s with someone else, so maybe he can live vicariously through Chris. “I think you should take a shot.”

“Okay,” Chris says, taking a sip of his drink and looking more nervous than Derek has ever seen him. “I’ll do it.”

 

*

 

They’re in Chris’ office, ostensibly discussing areas Derek and his pack should patrol for suspicious activity, but actually discussing what sort of date Chris should take the Sheriff on tonight. And to keep up appearances Derek _is_ looking at a map, but he’s pointing out great restaurants rather than potential hotbeds of supernatural activity.

It’s just when Chris is in the middle of a question about heart-healthy options that Allison and Stiles burst in.

“Dad, he’ll be fine with anywhere you pick,” Allison says cheerfully. “So don’t worry too much.”

“Derek, you should take us for ice cream,” Stiles says with his most winning smile. “We need a break from studying.”

Derek tries not to be swayed, but he doesn’t actually _want_ to say no. He’s given Chris as much info as he can, and in all honesty he’s probably been on more dates than Derek, anyway. He also hasn’t had ice cream in ages. “Okay,” he says, but makes sure it doesn’t sound too enthusiastic. He has a reputation to maintain. “Chris, you good here?”

“Fine,” Chris says, giving him a little nod. “Keep an eye on these lovebirds for me.”

“Hey, considering that _you_ want to mack on _my dad_ —” Stiles starts, but Derek just unceremoniously shoves him out the door before he can finish.

Allison just laughs and follows behind them.

They both climb into the back seat of the Camaro, and Derek rolls his eyes. He should have known this would happen. “You know I’m not actually your chauffeur, right?”

“For sure,” Allison says brightly. “But if I keep Stiles back here, he won’t try to change your radio station.”

Well, she’s not wrong. But Derek would prefer that over the two of them making out in the backseat—if he has to hear Stiles moan he’ll probably crash the car. It’s bad enough that he can already smell the low simmer of Stiles’ arousal, and he tries not to breathe too deeply.

Thankfully there’s no kissing, though they do stay pressed close together the whole way there, shoulder-to-shoulder in the rearview mirror. It makes Derek jealous of how comfortable they are together, but he tries not to let it show. Allison got there first, and he has to accept that.

Once they get to the ice cream shop, Derek sort of expects the two of them to order one big sundae to share, or something else sappily romantic like that, but they each order separately. Stiles gets his scoops in a cone, but Allison gets hers in a cup instead. 

When Stiles gives her a look, she grins and says, “I don’t have as much practice using my tongue as you do,” and Derek chokes on nothing.

Stiles and his oral fixation are hard to miss, but Derek didn’t need confirmation of how good he is at putting his tongue to work from Stiles’ _girlfriend_.

Derek grabs his milkshake and heads for a table, and is a little surprised when Allison and Stiles promptly follow right behind. He’d figured they’d ignore him during their little date, and possibly sit in a different area entirely.

But they seem perfectly happy to have him, a third wheel and mere mode of transportation, right there with them. And despite himself, Derek finds himself pulled into their conversation, especially when they start speculating on Chris and the Sheriff’s date tonight.

They end up talking long after their ice cream is gone, and only leave when Allison glances at her watch and says, “Shit, we gotta get back and finish that project.”

Stiles, who was in the middle of telling Derek a very involved story, scowls at her but eventually concedes that they do need to go back.

“You can make a move _after_ school work is done,” Allison mutters to Stiles as they’re walking out the door, and Derek has no idea what _that_ means.

She doesn’t say anything more about it on the drive back, and that makes Derek wonder if he heard right, or if it even meant anything at all.

 

*

 

Derek slumps down at the table across from Chris, and though they’d planned to have lunch, he finds that he’s not even hungry anymore.

“Hey, you okay?” Chris asks, and Derek’s skin prickles.

Because although the words are casual, the _tone_ is not. It’s the same way Chris sounds when he’s having a serious conversation with Allison, the same way Derek’s father sounded every morning at the kitchen table. _Just checking in_ , he’d say, but Derek always knew it was an open invitation to talk about anything that was bothering him.

And, strangely enough, that’s what _this_ feels like, too.

Derek finds himself irrationally tempted to push Chris away, even though he can _literally_ hear the sincerity in his voice. But he swallows that urge down, and quietly says, “Just trying to get over someone I can’t have.”

He’d gone to the mall yesterday, looking for a sturdier pair of jeans for his patrols in the preserve, when he’d spotted them. Allison had been grinning as she walked along the racks of clothes, pulling a laughing Stiles along with her by their joined hands.

They’d looked beautiful and young and _in love_ , and it had hit Derek hard.

He’d realized right then and there that he’d never be that carefree and lighthearted with someone, that it likely wasn’t even _possible_ anymore, and he finds himself telling Chris as much as he stares intently at the tabletop.

He’s not even sure he _can_ be someone Stiles would want to be with.

Chris nods, touches Derek’s arm until he meets his gaze, then proceeds to lay out all the ways Derek has grown and changed as a person, and firmly states that Derek should never believe he’s not worthwhile.

Derek feels flushed and nearly on the verge of tears, but he manages a smile. He never imagined there’d be a time when Chris’ attention wouldn’t be dangerous, something to be feared, but it so clearly no longer is.

So Derek is more than happy to accept his reassurance, taking a deep breath and remembering how much better things are now.

Then he turns the conversation to Chris’s date with the Sheriff, and has to work to hide his grin when Chris gets a little flustered answering.

 

*

 

“So, it has been brought to my attention,” Stiles says with the tone of someone who has been heavily lectured to, “that I have made a bit of a mistake, and that I should, um, try to fix any misunderstandings.”

Derek has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. And though Stiles seems perfectly willing to say whatever it is while standing awkwardly in his doorway, Derek is having none of that. “Why don’t you come inside first,” he says dryly.

Stiles gives him a nervous nod, takes a few steps in and pushes the door closed behind him. “Here’s the thing,” he says in a rush, when Derek levels him with an expectant look. “Allison and I aren’t really dating. It was all just pretend.”

Derek swears his heart jumps in his chest. “Why would you do that? And why are you telling me this _now?_ ” Stiles had seemed fine with letting Derek believe they were _together_ just two days ago, so he’s not sure what’s changed.

Stiles scratches the back of his neck, says, “We started it at school—some guys were being assholes to Allison because she kept turning them down—and you know I couldn’t let her bring her crossbow on campus. Even though she _really_ wanted to. So it seemed like the best option was just to act like _we_ were dating, so they’d back off.”

“And you decided to just…keep pretending? Around all of us?” Derek says, still feeling blindsided.

“We were having fun,” Stiles admits, looking a little embarrassed. “We’d take each other on these cute, cliché dates, we’d send each other these excessively mushy text messages, and—and anyway,” he says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t think anyone would be interested in _me_ anyway, so I figured it was harmless.”

Derek shakes his head a little at that, because Stiles’ view of his own attractiveness and appeal has always been way off the mark.

“But then Chris and I talked,” Stiles says, and that brings Derek’s attention right back. “The whole fake dating thing was fun just because I got to rile him up, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t _know_ , Derek. If I had, I would have told you right away that it wasn’t real.”

“Didn’t know what?” Derek asks, barely able to keep up with Stiles’ rapid-fire words.

“That you _liked_ me,” Stiles says, somehow frustrated and surprised at the same time. “I’ve had a crush on you for _so long_ , but I figured it was hopeless—”

And all Derek hears is that not only is Stiles available, he’s _interested_ , and lets himself have a moment of unfettered happiness, hauling Stiles into a kiss before he can even finish his sentence.

“Oh,” Stiles says softly, when Derek pulls back. “I guess that means you’re not mad at me.”

“Well, if you hadn’t been pretending to date Allison, we could have been doing this a lot sooner. So if there’s anyone to be mad at, it’s yourself,” Derek says, smirking.

“Fair enough,” Stiles says. “Thankfully Chris was there to steer me in the right direction. I should send him a fruit basket, or something.”

“I’ll buy him some kind of antique knife,” Derek says. “Later. Much later.”

Stiles nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, because we have a lot of kisses to catch up on,” he says, arms sliding around Derek’s shoulders. “Like, so many.”

Derek would say something about that, but his tongue is otherwise occupied. He’s sure Stiles knows what he means, anyway.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
